


The stories they never told

by StarsInDecember



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gryffindor, Hints of Drarry, Hogwarts, Hufflepuff, I have a cursing centaur, I'll return, I'm not gonna let this die though, I'm working on a lot of things, Just wait a month or two, Multi, Original Characters - Freeform, Ravenclaw, Short Stories, Slow? updates, Slytherin, Sorry Im bad at writing with canon Characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2019-11-12 19:17:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18016802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarsInDecember/pseuds/StarsInDecember
Summary: Ever heard of the Hufflepuff, who always looked beat up? The Ravenclaw who always failed his tests? Ever heard why a boy from Slytherin would flinch if anyone came near him? Why a girl from Gryffindor always did dangerous stuff for the adrenalin? This is the stories, that were never told, the stories about the people hiding in the dark corners of Hogwarts, and the stories just waiting to get out into the light.





	1. Chapter 1

***

 

\- He was never going to get touched again. No one would dare come near him. He would survive this, and rise above it. To hell with everybody else.

\- She didn't want to sleep. She didn't want to relax. She always had to be moving, always feeling the rush of adrenalin. It was the only way to keep the pain at bay.

\- The teachers said he never listened in class. That he was lazy, stupid, didn't understand the most simple things. His classmates said he was impossible to disturb when he was reading.

\- No matter where she was, what she was doing, she was always covered in bruises. How did she get them? She always looked beaten up. Who beat her up? And why did she look like she didn't care?


	2. Slytherin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jay wasn’t scared of his parents. He was angry at them. So angry, all the time. But one slip up. One slip up was all it took, and then they would be the angry ones, and he would be the scared little kid he had always been. He was never scared of monsters under the bed. He had learned a long time ago, that the worst monsters didn’t hide. How do you survive in a horrible home, with no love or care, or where the slightest mistake could cost you greatly? You learned that the only person worth of your trust, was yourself. No one else could save you, but you. 
> 
> And then you meet someone who breaks your chest open to the sunlight.

 

Jay wasn’t scared of his parents. He was angry at them. So angry, all the time. But one slip up. One slip up was all it took, and then they would be the angry ones, and he would be the scared little kid he had always been. Hiding in his room wasn't an option, because they could just come in and drag him out. He was never scared of monsters under the bed. He had learned a long time ago, that the worst monsters didn’t hide. He learned to be invisible, to read the air, to read his surroundings, to read his parents, to either hide when tension rose or diffuse it. If he didn’t, how should he have survived there? How do you survive in a horrible home, with no love or care, or where the slightest mistake could cost you greatly? You learned to not make mistakes, to disguise your fear, you learned that the only person worth of your trust, was yourself. No one else could save you, but you.

 

**1\. Year:**

When he came to Hogwarts, he had thought it was a dream. His parents had thought it was some kind of joke, they had never heard of Hogwarts. He had had to run away, and get everything by himself, which wasn't something new. When he got sorted into Slytherin, he had thought that everything would be better now. He had thought that the living nightmares where over, that he now had an opportunity to rise above what ever had happened at home. He didn’t care that Slytherin was the “bad house”. It couldn’t be worse than what he came from.

He flinched when an older Slytherin raised his hand to clap him on the back. He got terrified when the prefect raised her voice to call all the first years close. When all the other first years were chatting among themselves, he couldn’t bring himself to talk to anybody. When someone tried, he just looked at them with indifference, “Does it look like I care?”

 

**2\. Year:**

People quickly learned to avoid him, which only made it easier for him. It was more manageable to study when you weren’t in the center of a crowd. His roommates quickly learned to give him space, to not corner him, to not raise their voices around him, to not make any sudden movements around him. They learned to avoid him, both to make it easier for themselves, and for him. He rarely attended quidditch, too much noise, too many people, too much of an attack on his personal space. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, like his head would explode from the flooding of his senses. The first time he got a panic attack, and didn’t make it to the medical wing, nobody knew what to do. Snape called for Madam Pompfrey, and Jay spend the rest of the day under her care, but he refused to tell her what had happened. He never did.

 

**3\. Year:**

The teachers didn’t know what to think of him. He was clever, quick, and got excellent marks. But he rarely raised his hand, and when he did, it was either forced, or to correct a teacher. He earned his house a lot of points, but he lost half of them by talking back to the teachers, no matter the subject. He was more than once being accused of breaking into the restricted section, but no one ever actually ever caught him in the act, or had any proof, that he had been in there. He never used the knowledge in class, but he always had that bored look in his eyes,

“Why don’t you teach us some useful spells for once?”

When he was once caught actually breaking one of the school-rules (Hexing his roommates to sleep, just so he could rummage through their stuff, because he knew one of them had stolen his favorite book, were apparently against the rules) he just shrugged.

“I didn’t break any of my rules.”

He stopped caring if he got expelled or not. At home, he hadn't thought he would ever be able to make it by himself. Now he had learned, that he was best by himself.

 

**4\. Year:**

When he discovered the room of requirement, he would spent most of his time there. One year, during the Christmas break, he didn’t even leave it. It was peaceful in there, and it ussually gave him whatever he needed.

And one day, it gave him a bloody and bruised Hufflepuff, who looked just as surprised to see someone else in there, as he was.

 

***

 

“Why do you come here?”

Jay looked up from his book, while an annoyed sigh escaped his lips. He looked across the room, to where the Hufflepuff were sitting, her knitting-set in her lap. He never bothered to learn her name. The first thing they had both agreed to, when they first met in the Room of Requirement, was to make the line. The line split the room in two, and they stayed on their own side of the room. Simple. The only problem was, that the Hufflepuff were annoyingly nosey, and wouldn’t mind her own damn business.

“I don’t recall having showed any signs to indicate, that I was interested in a conversation. So, shut it,” he sneered, hoping it would be enough to make her stop bothering him.

Apparently, she either didn’t care about what he said, or she was just plain stupid.

“You’re that Slytherin-kid who nobody likes, right?”

“Thanks for pointing out the obvious, but if you don’t mind, I’m reading, so I can’t really participate in this rather boring conversation.”

“Why don’t they like you?”

“Why do you look like you got too close to the Willow?”

Her mouth turned into a thin line, and she looked away. She finally shut up. Jay smirked for himself, while he returned to his book.

“Thought so. Don’t ask me why I’m here, and you don’t have to tell me why you’re here.”

Apparently, he had shut her up a little too well, because she didn’t say a word after that. Not a sound. But the next time he found her in the room, she had erased the line they had drawn, and moved her armchair a little closer to his side of the room.

"What, in Merlin's name, are you doing?" he asked, too tired and annoyed to actually care much. It had been raining all day, and the halls had been flooding with students, with no room to move, or think, or _breath._

The Hufflepuff just shrugged, and snuggled down the cushions of her chair with her knitting-set.

For each day, she would move a little closer. For each day, he didn’t move away. One day, she was sitting on the couch, the couch that he normally sat in, surrounded by books, shielded form the world. He sat down beside her, and neither moved away. Neither said a word, but he couldn't stop himself from smiling, and then scowl at himself for smiling. But he saw her smile as well.

***

“My parents weren’t the kindest people,” he said one day, after they had been sitting together on the couch for a week. She nodded, eyes not meeting his. It was the first thing either of them has said in weeks.

“That explains a lot. I'm sorry. Nobody deserves that.”

And she meant it. He knew she did. He turned to look at her. Actually look at her. She had short, light purple hair, light blue eyes, light freckles across the nose. Everything about her seemed light, like she could float away any second. He didn't want her to float away. Her cheek was bruised. A scar split her eyebrow. She was bleeding from the lip. She looked too grounded to float away. He didn't want her to be grounded.

She turned to look at him. He didn’t see any pity in her eyes. He just saw her, looking at him. Seeing him, and accepting what she saw, and not minding it.

“My name is Jay,” he said. He extended his hand. It was shaking. So was his voice. He noticed how her own hands were shaking before she took his hand in her own. He could feel uneasiness settle in the pit of his stomach, before their hands were even touching. He wanted her to let go. He wanted her to never let go.

She gave his hand a light squish, before she let go, giving him a small, relieving smile. He wanted her to keep smiling at him like that.

“My name is Liva.” 

He smiled. He wanted to say that name before he went to sleep, so that all the kindness that name possessed could protect him from nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was the first real chapter of the story. After this, there will be three chapters, each following a different character from one of the houses. After that, I'm not entirely sure what I'll do. I'll continue the story, but I'm not sure plot-wise what's going to happen. I'll have it figured out when that time comes :-)  
> Also, not all of the stories will be centered around romance. I just really like the Slytherpuff-romance-trope<3
> 
> On another note: English is my second language, so if there's any mistakes, you are welcome to point them out, IN A RESPECTFULL MANNER. My english essays will be grateful for it.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the story, and I'll see you when I'm done writing the second chapter, which will be about a lovely Gryffindor-girl, named Emilia. 
> 
> Take care, and go with the flow <3


	3. Gryffindor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emilia’s father died during her first year at Hogwarts. He had been in Gryffindor himself, and had been so proud when she got in as well. And then he had died. And things had just moved on so fast. Gryffindors where the daredevils, but she outmatched her housemates by far with her stunts. Adrenalin would kick in, and she would forget, that she no longer had a father who could be proud of her.
> 
> Friends were never a priority.

Emilia’s father died during her first year at Hogwarts. He had been in Gryffindor himself, and had been so proud when she got in as well. And then he had died. And things had just moved on so fast. Quidditch was a good distraction, for a while. She was still too young to join the team, and she weren’t a prodigy, like the famous Harry Potter would turn out to be, a few years later. But she flew better and wilder than she was allowed during the flying lessons, which often got her into detention. Detention, that she would never turn up to. Gryffindors where the daredevils, but she outmatched her housemates by far with her stunts. Adrenalin would kick in, and she would forget, that she no longer had a father who could be proud of her.

**1\. Year**

Even before she saw the owl, she had known that something was wrong. When she saw it, she got a sick feeling in her stomach, like she wanted to puke. When she opened the letter, she couldn’t breathe. When she had read the letter, she felt as if something heavy was seated on her chest, pressing down, crushing her ribs, and penetrating her heart. And her heart just kept beating, every beat more and more painful, like pieces of broken class kept tearing deeper and deeper inside her being. Her father was never coming back.

**2\. Year**

When she jumped out of the Astronomy tower with her broom, she got detention, and lost fifty points from Gryffindor. She didn’t care. The next day, she tried to grab a leaf from the Willow, where she barely made it out alive. But she did get hit a few times, and she had to spend the night in the infirmary. Those were the worst twelve hours of her life. When she was still, blood wouldn’t be pumping hard through her veins, life wouldn’t get her high, and she would be all alone with her empty heart.

**3\. Year**

When Harry Potter killed the troll in the toilet, she felt cheated. A first year got to take down a troll, and gain points to the house, but she knew, that if she had done it, she would have lost a lot more points for doing so. But on the positive, with all teachers having their attention turned towards the chosen one, that would mean that they wouldn’t notice her own stunts as much. When she found the mirror of erised, she still saw her father, smiling at her. She would reach for him, but never get to him. When the mirror disappeared, she didn’t know if she was relieved or devastated.

**4\. Year**

When Slytherin’s monster roamed the school, she went out of her way to be alone in the corridors, sneaking down to the kitchen to get a snack, sneaked out at night, anything, to be a lonesome, easy and half-blood target. She didn’t want to be petrified, turned to stone like the other victims. She just wanted to see, if she could figure out what was going on, and if she could get away with it. The last thing she saw, was big, yellow eyes, and she felt at peace. When she woke up, she had wanted to cry, but her chest felt hollow, and her mind was dry.

**5\. Year**

Sirius Black was on the loose, and on his way to Hogwarts to get Harry Potter. That year, Emilia would spend her time divided in two places: The Forbidden Forest, looking for Sirius Black, so she could take him down, and the other half, she would use in detention for going into the Forbidden Forest, to take down Sirius Black.

*******

Emilia was running towards the Forest, energy already buzzing in her system, suppressing everything around her. A body suddenly appeared in front of her, and she fell down with the body. Turned out, that it was some student from Slytherin.

“Watch it, Slythershit!”

The boy looked like he was about to sneer something at her, but before he got a chance, another voice called out.

“Jay! Are you okay?!”

Emilia turned around to see a girl in Hufflepuff-colors come running down the hill. Her hair was purple, and she was holding a bag filled with books. The Slytherin, Jay, seemed to relax by the sight of her.

“I’m okay, Liva. I just have to practice some more with the Apparition-spell,” he looked angrily at Emilia. “-and make sure that there’s not anyone in the area to fall over.”

Emilia rolled her eyes, before she pushed herself up, and turned towards the forest.

“Whatever losers. Just stay out of my way.” She began running again, while the girl yelled after her.

_“What do you mean by us 'staying out of your way' ?! You’re the one who…!!”_

The voice slowly disappeared in the distance, while Emilia reached the edge of the forest, where she quickly stepped away from the path and went deep in between the trees.

*******

And she got lost. Not that she really cared, but it had gotten dark, and even in her own, impulsive, adrenalin-high mind, she knew that being in the Forbidden Forest at night, wasn’t exactly the safest place to be. Still, she didn’t try to find her way out. The thought of finding and confronting Sirius Black hadn’t crossed her mind for hours. She didn’t even have a reason for being in the forest anymore: She just didn’t want to return to the school. She just wanted to feel alive a little bit longer. She fell over roots, stones, weird holes in the ground, stumbling, fumbling, directionless, with no trace of thought to where she was going. No trace of thought of why she was still so stubbornly doing this. She wouldn’t be able to handle that. She knew that, so she avoided the subject entirely, never minding what the psychiatrist said. She just had to keep the thoughts at bay, keeping the adrenalin high in her body, never slowing down, never… She promptly stopped running, when a giant body moved out in front of her. She didn’t fall, but she did take a few, startled steps back. She looked up, and met the stern, green eyes of a centaur. They both stood frozen on the spot, though the centaur didn’t exactly seem surprised to see her.

“I did not think students were allowed in the Forest?”

“So, what? Doesn’t stop me from being here, so why don’t you mind your own business?!” The centaur continued staring down at her. Emilia fought against the constant urge to back away. Instead, she raised her chin, and did her best to seem intimidating. The centaur just raised an eyebrow.

“Sirius Black is on the loose. Are your sure, you should be here?”

“I do what I want, so get out of my way.” She gritted her teeth, and ignored how her legs were buckling under her, either from exhaustion or fear. She didn’t care about either. The centaur sighed and crossed his arms.

“I’ll follow you out. We don’t need more nosey humans in our forest.”

“I don’t need your help…!”

The centaur was suddenly way to close, and her voice drowned in her throat.

“I am following you out of the forest. End of discussion.” The centaur walked past her and moved in between the trees. Emilia stood a good seven seconds, before she turned around, and followed him. They walked in silence, only interrupted by the haunted sounds of the forest. It startled her when the centaur finally spoke.

“What is your name, child?”

“I am not a child.”

The centaur turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow. She puffed out a sigh of air, before she answered the question.

“Emilia. Johnson. Emilia Johnson. I’m a fifth year from Gryffindor.”

The centaur nodded silently.

“I did not ask which year or house you were from. Just your name.”

Several minutes passed, before he spoke again.

“My name is Orion.”

She nodded and expected that they would continue in silence. She was wrong.

“What were you doing in the forest, Emilia Johnson?”

“That’s none of your business!” She gritted her teeth stubbornly, while avoiding eye contact.

“Is it about your father?”

Emilia came to a sudden stop, her feet refusing to carry her any longer, her mind going blank, like the calm before a storm would come crashing down, ruining everything she had worked so hard to uphold.

“What do you know about my father?”

Orion laughed to himself.

“The stars told me, that I would encounter someone with daddy-issues tonight.”

For a short moment, the panic that had slowly festered in Emilia’s mind, subsided, and left her dumfounded.

“What?”

“You heard me. I do not care about what issues you may have with your father, but it is disturbing the quiet of the forest, and quite frankly, something tells me, that you will come back and annoy me again, if you do not get sorted through your shit. So, tell me.”

She didn’t know why she did it. Maybe it was because it was late, and she was too tired to argue. Maybe the burden she had carried all these years had finally grown too heavy. Maybe it was because she had just heard a centaur curse, but she told him.

“My father is dead.”

Orion looked back at her, with something not unlike pity in his eyes. But then it was gone and replaced by something cold and calculating.

“That does not explain what you are doing in my forest.”

Emilia began trembling, and this time, it was definitely from the years of pressure on her heart, finally beginning to crumble, for some unknown reason. Still, she remained quiet. A big part of her wanted to tell Orion about the past four years, but the smaller part of her mind that begged her not to, had grown far too strong over the years. Orion sighed impatiently. “You are not going to achieve anything by running away from his death, you do know that, right?” She still couldn’t say anything, but she nodded, just a quick, almost invisible nod, but she nodded non the less.

“You are crying.”

“I know damn well that I’m crying, shut the fuck up!” It seemed as if the forest itself felt quiet, awaiting what would happen next. Emilia didn’t cry loud or long, just silently letting her tears fall down her face, and aggressively wiping them away. She waited until her cheeks were dry, before she spoke again.

“He died during my first year. He was so proud of me for getting into Gryffindor. He had been in Gryffindor and had made the most out of his life every single day. He still had so much to do. So many things to show and share with me…”

“And I assume, that you have been using these past years living up to his legacy, and living your life to the fullest, not just running away from your grief, and hiding it away behind adrenalin?”

Orion’s clear voice cut through the lightheadedness the tears had created in Emilia’s mind, grounding her, and making her remember to be mad at him, for making her stop and reconsider her life-choices in the woods, which had not been on her to-do list for the day.

“What do you know about what I’ve been doing or not?! The stars told you something or what?!”

Orion chuckled to himself, looking up at the stars.

“Perhaps, that is really none of your business. Are you going to answer me, or keep running away from your problems like a coward?”

A match got lit in her blood, making it boil and pump hot, fast and angry through her veins.

 _ **“I’m not a coward!!**_ _I’m not running away! I just_ … Don’t want to feel like I might break at every other second. I just…Want him to be proud of me…”

Orion shook his head, and began to walk again, leading her out of the forest.

“He would probably be prouder of you, if you sucked up your shit, moved on, got some friends, and found yourself some real happiness.”

Her thoughts went to the Slytherin-boy and Hufflepuff-girl, who seemed to care so much about each other. Emilia didn’t have anyone like that. She couldn't even remember the last time she had felt happy without some trace of sadness clouding her breath and weighing her down. Of course, she had had moments of happiness throughout the years, but not anything that made her loss disappear from her heart.

She scowled at Orion.

“You’re not very good at comforting others, have anyone ever told you that?”

Orion snorted amused. “I see no reason to try and cheer you up with comforting lies. If your father could see you now, I am willing to bet, that he would be pissed.”

Emilia laughed a little.

“You’re probably right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!!! For fanden (For f*cks sake, guess which language it's from ;-)), this chapter was a sucker! I'm pretty happy with the end-result, but writer's block hit me hard in the brain while writing this. But it's here now!!! YAY!!! Please correct my grammar in a polite way, it sucks, and I need to get better at it <3
> 
> Next chapter should be out a bit quicker, though I give no promises, a lot of things are going to happen the next month or so, so I'll be a bit busy. Okay, that was a lie, I'll be very busy. But I write when I want to cool down, so I'll probably still find time for this story.
> 
> Next chapter will be in Ravenclaw, where a boy has trouble concentrating, sitting still in class, and basically just has problems with school. And yet he is the most creative and knowledgable, when it comes to combining technology and magic.


	4. Chapter three: Ravenclaw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castor's parents honestly didn’t think he would ever make it to Hogwarts. There was no way they would accept such a lousy student. But he got the letter. No one believed him when he said, that he always tried his best, but that he just couldn’t keep his focus on the schoolwork. When he got sorted into Ravenclaw, both he and his family were shocked. How could he of all people, be sorted into the house of knowledge and cleverness? Everyone believed he was stupid, and no one believed him when he tried to prove the opposite.

Castor had always pissed off his teachers. His parents honestly didn’t think he would ever make it to Hogwarts. There was no way they would accept such a lousy student. But he got the letter, and his parents wouldn’t stop talking about how great of an opportunity it was for him, and that he couldn’t let it go to waste. No one believed him when he said, that he always tried his best, but that he just couldn’t keep his focus on the schoolwork. No one listened, when he said that he knew lots of things, but that the teachers just never talked about any of those things. When he got sorted into Ravenclaw, both he and his family were shocked. How could he of all people, be sorted into the house of knowledge and cleverness? Everyone believed he was stupid, and no one believed him when he tried to prove the opposite.

1\. Year:

Nobody understood how he could answer some of the riddles with ease but couldn’t answer others for the love of his life. He could stare at the enchanted ceiling for hours on end, but when they had astronomy, he couldn’t focus even a second. When he came back from winter break, he had all sorts of mechanics with him, and his roommates could hear him working with it to long out in the night.

2\. Year:

The teachers had finally given in and allowed him to have something at hand, something to fiddle with, something to keep his mind and hands occupied. It helped a little with his concentration, but more than anything else, it kept him quiet in the classroom, so at least the other students could focus. One time, someone took it from him, just for fun, but though Castor mostly seemed calm enough, he saw red, and threw a fit. When he calmed down again, he could only remember the outbreak like in a haze. He hadn’t meant to freak out or hurt his classmates. But he had, and he was scared to do much else than read alone for weeks.

3\. Year:

When he joined the quidditch team, it was an accident. He had been made a few adjustments to his broom and had wanted to take it for a test-run. Then the quidditch team had seen him fly, and had almost demanded, that he joined their team. And for the first time in years, Castor felt like others actually could take him seriously.

***

The broom was still shaking, and Castor cursed loudly before he landed on the pitch.

“Vole Stabil!” he chanted. It was a self-made charm, and was supposed to give the broom more speed, without it getting out of hand, but so far, though it had made the broom faster, it was shaking too much, and would sometimes stop flying all together, and just stand still in the air. Castor sighed and reached up to remove his goggles, which had been fogging up too much to be of use.

“Hey Castor! What are you doing out here?!” Castor kept his eyes on his broom, as Emilia got closer.

“Nothing much 'Milia. I’m just working on your broom,”

Emilia looked worried a second, before she sighed. 

“You know I love flying, and that I'm grateful for all the cool stuff you add to my broom, but shouldn’t you be studying for your test tomorrow?”

Castor kept quiet, and continued to work on his broom, even though he wasn’t really doing anything, except avoiding the look from his friend. But that didn’t work for long, because Emilia decided to sit down in front of him. Ever since Castor had met the older Gryffindor a few months back, he had found out that she only had two moods: Protective or foolhardy. Right now, she was being protective, and it was mildly irritating.

“I tried to study…” he mumbled, trying to cover up his annoyance. Emilia sighed frustrated.

“How is it, that you can’t focus on your schoolwork for the love of Merlin, but can read books for hours on end about muggle engineering, as though it matters?”

“Because it does.” He tried, but he knew his words fell on deaf ears. Emilia looked at him sideways, before she sighed defeatedly.

“I will never understand that brain of yours.” She got up and left, maybe to study or to go plan on her latest rulebreaking escapade. Normally, Castor would have helped her, but right now, he just wanted to work with his hands, because right now, it felt as if it was the only thing he was good at. 

“I don't understand it either” Castor mumbled for himself, while he tried to ignore the feeling in his chest. He knew Emilia didn’t mean anything vicious with her statement, but it fell a little too close to what he had heard others call him over the years. Stupid. Troublemaker. Weird. Useless.

“It’s not my fault,” he continued to mumble, while he kept working on his broom.

***

Castor was sitting in potions class, trying desperately to pay attention to whatever Snape was saying. In the beginning it went good enough, but his attention slowly faded away. The problem was, that potions was something he actually liked. It was the closest thing to science in a school of magic, and it required that Castor himself worked with his hands, instead of just listening and waving his wand. It made him more focused, but even when he worked on things he liked, he still lost concentration more easily than his peers. Castor found himself drawing designs for a radio, that integrated magic and radio waves. He wrote down notes for potential spells and materials required to make it work, and he was pretty sure he could build one with minimal explosions. Suddenly the notebook was snatched from his hands, leaving a long, black line of ink on the page. Snape stood looming over him, dark figure and distasteful scowl.

“And what, might I ask, have captured your attention so fiercely, that you can’t hear or follow my instructions, Mr. Jones?”

Castor just shook his head, trying to seem sorry, and avoid eye contact. “No, sorry sir, I’ll pay better attention.”

“Perhaps you could come up here, and show us all what to do next? Should be easy for someone who doesn’t have to pay attention?”

Looking up at the blackboard and at the smoking cauldron, Castor knew that he would do it wrong. He remembered which potion they were making, and remembered the beginning just fine, but he had no idea how far they had gotten, or what to do next. “I’m sorry sir, but I don’t know what we’re supposed to be doing next.” Snape’s scowl lifted a little, turning into a venomous smirk. He twirled around, making his black cape swirl dramatically around him.

“Shouldn’t come as a surprise, that the student who doesn’t pay perfect attention in class, will turn out to be the most dull-minded student in said class.”

Snickers were heard from the other students, some genuine, some just to not get in trouble. Castor fiddled nervously with his quill, while his eyes quickly read over what was on the blackboard and tried to tune the sounds and other distractions out, so he could focus. But his mind soon began to fill itself with noise, his fingers began tapping, and while he tried to stop, tried to keep his mind clear, it never lasted more than a few minutes.

He was going to visit Hagrid later. Perhaps that would help with his mood.

***

Most of the time, you could find Hagrid’s hut either empty and the few times you couldn’t, it was because Harry, Hermione, and Ron were visiting. Castor mostly left if they arrived or was there when he got there. It wasn’t because he didn’t like them, it was more because bad things seemed to follow in their trail, but it was also because there wasn’t much room in Hagrid’s hut, and normally when he went to visit Hagrid, it was to clear his head of dark thoughts and worries. This time, however, there was someone entirely new in the hut. Castor had never seen Professor Lupin visit Hagrid and had never really seen him outside of the classroom or in the Great Hall. Again, normally Castor would have turned away when others were visiting Hagrid, but the door was open and inviting, and before he even got the chance to turn away, Hagrid had spotted him with a large smile.

“Castor! Come in, nice to see yeh,”

“Hello Hagrid, Professor Lupin,” “How’s it goin’ with the broom?” Castor nervously side glanced at professor Lupin, who sat and observed the exchange with a subtle smile. He just hoped that Hagrid wouldn’t mention that the broom was partially made with bits and pieces of muggle technology.

“I worked out some of the shaking, but it still needs a lot of work. I was hoping you perhaps knew where to find some fairy dust?”

“What do you need fairy dust for?” asked Lupin, the first thing he had said while Castor had been present.

“I think it could help to keep the broom moving in the air. I made this spell to make it faster, without getting unstable, but right now, the broom just stops midair with no reason. I’m thinking the fairy dust could help sort it out, together with some other charms and plants.”

“Castor’s a brillian’ little engineer. Yeh should’a seen what he did with me kettle! He’s grea’ a’ mixin’ magic and technology. He build a very expressive train las’ Christmas!”

Hagrid’s face suddenly fell, realizing what he had said. Technology was not permitted on school grounds, due to the fact, that it didn’t mix well with magic. Castor was constantly breaking school rules, and Hagrid was one of the few who knew, mostly because he had discovered Castor testing his magical clock in the forest, back in the first year.

“I shouldn’ta said that.”

Castor looked nervously at Lupin, who just smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m not about to spill your secret. But I’m pretty interested in your work, Castor. I had gotten the expression from our classes, and your other teachers, that you weren’t good with spells or figuring out how to use them?”

Castor felt himself being trapped in a corner, but the way professor Lupin looked at him, wasn’t malicious, like how Snape would looked at him, like he was a disgrace to the wizarding community. It felt like every teacher looked at him that way. Professor Lupin just looked curious and encouraging.

“I’m having a hard time remembering and paying attention in class. Sometimes when I study for my own things as well, but it’s worse in class. Sometimes it’s really easy, but mostly I just…. Can’t,”

“And when you study for your own projects, like your broom? How is your focus then?”

Castor shrugged. “Mostly better, but it still slips up really easily,”

Professor Lupin looked thoughtful for a moment.

“Have you talked with Madam Pomfrey about it?”

“No, why would I? I’m just… bad in school.” Castor looked confused at his teacher, but it felt like the world slowed down, like in movies, when something important happened.

“I think you might have ADHD or ADD. From what you just told me, and from what I have observed in class, it could be very likely. You having trouble focusing and sitting still, and sometimes even doing rash things without thinking them through completely, it seems pretty likely. Of course, we should talk to a medical profession first to make sure. I can go with you now if you’d like?”

Feeling as though something was slowly beginning to fall into place, Castor nodded, and more than usually, he left Hagrid’s hut feeling happy and light. ADHD. If it was true, then he wouldn’t be weird or wrong anymore. There would be some real description he could use on himself, there would be a reason for how he thought and acted. It was a relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Last chapter, when I said that this chapter would be out pretty quick? That was a lie. This took me months to write, mostly because of Castor's ADHD. I wanted to do some proper research on it before I wrote anything, but I just didn't have time to do it thoroughly and in the end, I just decided to write it with what I had. I don't personally know anyone who is diagnosed with ADHD, and it comes in many forms, but this is how I chose to write Castor's. If anyone thinks I have left something out, or could have described something better, please tell, and I'll try to make it better. 
> 
> Next chapter is about Liva from Hufflepuff, and I have been looking forward to writing that chapter, mainly because I myself am a Hufflepuff :-)


	5. Hufflepuff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that it took so long to update!!!!

Liva had never learned about picking her battles. Why should she? The conflicts happened and would never get resolved if no one dealt with them, and if no one else was going to fight, then she had to. From she first stepped onto the Hogwarts Express, through the Sorting Ceremony, and till she got to her dormitory, she had been in a total of three fights, and even though she had lost them all, even though she had only received problems for it, detention and lost house points, she never regretted it for even a moment.

1\. Year

Whenever she heard someone make comments about muggles being weak or worthless, no matter if it was in pity or malice, she would feel anger coil in her gut. Whenever she tried to be diplomatic and ask what made them weaker, the other students, even the muggle-borns, would explain, that muggles never did anything but fight and destroy and that they never would be able to see the solutions right in front of them. Sometimes, Liva was able to force herself away before she did something rash and violent. Most of the time though, she didn’t.

2\. Year

The problems with the teachers were established already in Liva’s first year, though it only seemed to escalate. Her tendency to take her aggressive nature out on arrogant, egotistic people, weren’t limited to only peers or classmates, but teachers as well. Though she never actually got in a fight with a teacher, she did get into heated arguments with just a few of them, her yelling insults and curses without magic, and the teacher in question standing dumbfounded at the other end of the feisty machinery of insults. And then she would get detention.

3\. Year

Discovering the room of requirement was both a relief in and of itself, but also worked as a nod towards change. Whenever the outside-world became too much to ignore, whenever she felt herself close to exploding, she would seek out the room, and either punch the aggression out in there or just distract her mind with knitting or other activities. She was still angry, still wanted to fight every problem the world presented to her. She still got into fights.

4\. Year

She met Jay, and everything turned brighter.

5\. Year

Stupid Jay. Stupid, idiotic, arrogant Jay, who didn’t know what he was talking about, and should actually just keep his bloody mouth shut! But he didn’t and even though Liva normally appreciated Jay’s blunt honesty, she still wanted to shove it far up his arse.

_“What happened to you this time?” Jay looked tired and exhausted, and like someone who didn’t want to deal with his girlfriend’s bullshit. Liva wanted to keep him out of it. She knew he wouldn’t let her._

_“Someone was talking shit about you again.” Jay’s eyes turned small and dangerous, and for a short, glorious moment, Liva thought he would help her take them down._

_“You have to stop fighting every loser you meet.” Liva’s vision immediately turned red, her blood slowly began to simmer under her skin._

_“Why? They had no right to talk about you like they did, or about anyone else for that matter. If I didn’t do something, then who would have?”_

_“I’m not saying, that some people don’t deserve a beating for the way they treat their surroundings, but they’re not all your fights! Learn to pick your battles…” He came a little bit closer, took her hand like he was scared of touching any more of her, like she was something potentially dangerous. The motion alone was enough to shatter her heart._

_“You’re ruining yourself. Please. Stop.”_

 

She wanted to hit something. Really badly. She was pacing around the library, the calm and concentrated atmosphere usually doing the job and making her calm down from whatever she was raging over. It wasn’t working. A dark-haired Ravenclaw boy was sitting at one of the many tables, watching her.

“Are you okay?” he asked, like it was totally normal to ask that when you didn’t know the person.

“No, and no offense, but I’d rather not talk with you about it.” The boy just smiled and took a step back.

“That’s fine, it’s scary to talk about upsetting things,” Liva just looked annoyed at him, considering if he was actually trying to annoy her, and if so, that he should do a better job at it. She was mad but not that easily provoked.

“But perhaps talking to someone unknown would help?” he asked, continued like nothing was wrong. Liva laughed.

“Some things are too confusing and complicated to talk to anyone about.”

His eyes glimmered with something like a mad idea.

***

Leave it to a Ravenclaw, to come with the weird, yet actually pretty genius ideas. Castor, as the boy had introduced himself as, had pointed her towards a painting in one of the smaller staircases that rarely contacted with the floors, and therefor rarely had any students on it. Liva looked at the paintings, trying to pick them all apart and find the one Castor had mentioned. She quickly found it. A regular painting, a forest, some hills, blue sky, farm people going around in the picture, living as though they weren’t a painting. She felt silly but no sillier than every time she had to enter the Hufflepuff dormitories and had to tickle that annoyingly adorable pear. It even made a sound, like it was giggling! Who came up with that?

She stood in front of the picture, and then blew carefully on it, like it had burned itself, and needed help to cool down. A few seconds ticked past, and Liva grew a bit impatient and wary, just wanting to get this over with. Castor hadn’t told her what would happen after she had blown on the picture, just that it might help her a bit. He hadn’t even voiced what he thought she needed help with. But deep down, Liva knew it herself, just like every teacher, friend and family knew, and had tried to talk and help her with it. Jay knew. And the way he had looked at her… She didn’t want him to look at her like that. Like he was scared for her. Not OF her, but FOR her. Like he was scared of what would happen to her if she didn’t stop. 

"Howdy,” a sudden voice peeped. Liva let out a high yelp and almost fell backward. Out from the picture, a head had appeared. Transparent, a little bit blueish, and definitely the head of a ghost. The ghost was male, perhaps dead in his late teens. Scars and bruises where everywhere on his face, and somehow, it didn’t look too different from all the times Liva had found herself in a fight she couldn’t win but fought anyway. The look in his eyes was the same, though dulled, like the amber of the fire was still there, but the flames had died out long ago.

“Who the ever-loving Hell are you?”

The ghost crooked his head, then laughed a little.

“The name’s Thomas. I see you’re a bit on the feisty side, eh missy?” Liva couldn’t help but stare. Thomas had emerged fully from the picture now, and was sitting on the edge of the frame, or rather, appearing to be, since the frame was too slim for anyone to actually sit on it.

“I… Nice to meet you, I guess?” Thomas laughed now, but it was… quiet. It should have been loud, but no sound came out. Liva starred at him.

“What happened to you?” she felt weird, a bit rude to ask, but it wasn’t exactly a question that could be framed in a polite manner either way. Thomas didn’t seem uneasy by it, which was good. The last thing Liva wanted, was to piss off another ghost.

“I didn’t learn to pick my fights. I guess y’know how that is.” he looked knowingly at her, and she realized, that she didn’t have to worry about making Thomas uneasy, because he looked like it was his personal mission to start and finish a very uncomfortable conversation with her.

“… Yeah.”

Thomas soared around her, not seeming very convinced.

“Hmm… You’re not a Gryffindor, are you?”

“No. Why?”

“It’s mostly Gryffindors who carry that kind of righteous anger.” Liva felt the beforementioned anger move in her stomach.

“Don’t underestimate the Hufflepuffs.” Thomas laughed heartedly, making him soar a little higher. Not a sound came out.

“I would never. I’ve seen what an angry badger can do.” He seemed to settle himself a bit, floating down a little.

“As you've probs noticed, I can’t laugh anymore. Not really.”

“Why? Has it something to do with how you died?” It still felt rude to ask a ghost about that. But she needed answers.

“A little bit.” He pointed at the painting he had come out of.

“That’s my family. They were muggles. They died because of a war that had nothing to do with them. I knew magic. I decided to go out and revenge them. Every day was a battle, every comment about the glory of war was enough for me to start a fight. It’s not that I never had fun in those years, but my mind just seemed clouded. Like I couldn’t let go. When I died, I had avenged my family, but the fights and wars continued on. I hadn’t really done anything. When I woke up here, as a ghost of Hogwarts, I couldn’t laugh.” Thomas looked so sad and lost, that Liva wanted nothing more than to give him a hug. She tried, but she went right through him.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, placing a gentle hand on the frame.

“I know that fighting every battle presented to me is a bad idea, I’ve known for years. But it feels a lot like giving up, and not caring enough. I just… Need a little more time to figure out what to do instead.” She looked up at him. He smiled gently at her.

“You still have time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had originally thought that this chapter would be easy to write, but I was, wait for it… WRONG. Yeah, this was pretty hard to write. The next couple of chapters is going to be with different characters, some of these first four plots might return? I don’t know, we’ll see. If anyone knows any Hogwarts headcanons, then I would absolutely love to hear them, they are what this entire fic is about.


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